


Accept my help

by Malh



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur has low self-esteem, Car Accidents, Childhood Trauma, Confessions, Coughing, Fever Dreams, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medication, Overworking, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Protective Eames (Inception), Sick Character, Sickfic, ocd arthur, overworked Arthur, petnames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 20:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malh/pseuds/Malh
Summary: Arthur has always worked hard so that Cobb's missions would work out for the best but this time he overworked himself too much and even if he doesn't want to accept it, he needs Eames help. But what if his refusal to ask for Eames' support came from a traumatic experience that had occurred in his past?





	Accept my help

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction took me quite a long time to write so I hope you'll enjoy it, I'm personally a huge fan of the Arthur/Eames duo! Btw, I wanted to know whether you preferred one chapter or a few for a story of this length, please comment on what you prefer. Sorry in advance if there are mistakes or incoherence, I'm not a very good writer yet^^'.

Arthur was very aware of everything in his life, from his daily schedule to the private life of his co-workers, it was for him the best way to plan extractions, and most recently inceptions, without letting any detail aside. This awareness included his physical condition, and thanks to it, when he woke up that morning, he immediately knew that something was off with his health. With his poor medical knowledge, he couldn't diagnose himself so he just wrote down his symptoms on a piece of paper, hoping that he would be able to find time to look it up. They included headache, coughing, dizziness, painful breathing and judging by his burning head despite his shivering body, a good old fever. The only good thing about it was that it had woken him up early which was fortunate given the ridiculous amount of work the pointman had to deal with that day. He quickly got dressed, put on his contact lenses, poured himself a coffee, tidied everything up and checked that everything was at its right place to eventually head to work, happy that the apartment he had chosen was close enough to the warehouse so that he wouldn't have to drive to get there, unsure of whether he would be able to focus in the complex streets of the town they had set their HQ up in.

When he arrived, five notes had been pinned on the board at the entrance of the workspace. The one from Cobb explained he wouldn't be there because James had caught a cold and he had to look after him. Ariadne was apparently on a trip in India were she would get inspiration from the local architecture for the dreamscape she had to create for the next mission. Yusuf was also on the field, testing out his brand new drug, so as for Saito, he was on a business trip, as usual. Eames' note was a tiny bit different:

“It looks like it is only going to be the two of us darling!”, with a smiling emoji at the end of it.

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh and took the last note off the board before heading to his desk which was in an isolated corner so that he would be bothered too much by the other team members, they tended to finish their work earlier and would therefore become very annoying to Arthur who was usually the one who would be done last because he had the most tedious work to complete. Compared to the effort it was to actually stand, his chair had never felt so comfortable. After having closed his eyes for a bit, regretting that he couldn't dim the lights to make his headache more bearable, he forced himself to start working.

About half of an hour later, Eames stepped in the warehouse with an amused look on his face when he noticed that Arthur had removed the note he had pinned the previous evening. To Arthur intrigued face, he answered with his soft British accent:

“Good morning sunshine! Yes I know I am early but I couldn't wait for our face to face day of work! We're going to have such a good time!”

Despite the many biting retorts Arthur had in mind, he chose not to say anything, knowing that answering would make Eames talk even more which wouldn't help with his headache. It was Eames' turn to be quite surprised when Arthur simply went back to his work, but he didn't add anything. Indeed, their was a reason why Cobb had chosen him to be part of the team, like all the others he had quite impressive deduction abilities. He had arrived at about 7.30 (which was bloody early for the night owl that he was!). When he had entered the room, Arthur was already settled and focused on his work, meaning that he had arrived at least 30 minutes earlier. He hadn't spotted the point man's car outside the building so his co-worker must have walked here and even if the Forger couldn't exactly place where Arthur lived – Cobb had refused to tell him because of a privacy/security matter - , he knew it was at least an hour away on foot. Add to that an hour and a half to get prepared (this was the least Arthur needed given his OCD which forced him to do everything very carefully and at least twice, he had learnt it at his expense when they had been forced to share a room for this horrible work in Brazil) which finally implied that Arthur must have woken up at about 4.30, knowing that he had left work at 11 the day before, no doubt he was grumpy!

Teasing Arthur when he wasn't fully awake and functional wasn't that funny, he would just wave a distracted hand at him to have some peace. Eames quickly gave up to focus on his work as well, he had to forger the identity of a rather complicated guy whose decisions didn't really seem to make any sense at all, like why on earth would someone ask a girl to marry her to hang her dog Sparkle (that name didn't even make any sense in itself) 5 hours later?! It seemed Arthur's researches weren't that much fun either given how many times he sighed, pressed his fingers on his nose bridge, ran his hands through his hair without making them messy – Eames was still trying to figure that out – and tried to focus again. Technically, this was not supposed to be unusual; everyone could feel kind of overwhelmed at some point with everything they had to do, Cobb had been putting a lot of pressure on them lately and Arthur more than anyone had never lessen his efforts to make everything work out for the best. But Arthur coughed as well which was a bit odd, maybe because of the air conditioning, after all it made the forger's throat scratchy as well sometimes. Still, when time to have lunch arrived and Eames left to grab something to eat, seeing that the other man didn't look like he was going to take a break at all, he decided to take something for him, it would be simple but still better than nothing.

This morning had been absolutely awful! The most he looked at his computer screen – which he was obliged to do for his research – the worse his headache would get, and his coughing too for some mysterious reasons. He could tell that if he didn't feel great, he didn't look good either because Eames had stopped teasing him, which he never usually did even when Cobb would threaten to fire him; he knew pertinently that he was too much of an important team member to be thrown away for such a childish matter. Arthur's stomach, which had been pretty quiet until then, decided to act up at lunch time. Feeling unwell, the Point man had decided that skipping food would be for the best so he kept working, not expecting that Eames would buy him something. Despite his sometimes bad temper, Arthur wasn't a complete asshole and cared a lot about manners so he accepted Eames' food. After two tiny bites, he instantly knew that having eaten was a mistake. He stood as naturally as possible and headed to the toilets, repressing his urge to run. He locked himself in the last one of the row, hoping that the sound wouldn't get to Eames, and threw up the entire content of his stomach, which wasn't much, but his intestines being particularly zealous, decided to go on for another minute of vomiting acid which hurt his throat as hell. After leaning on the wall for another minute, Arthur had to admit he felt a bit better, maybe it was just food poisoning after all, even if he didn't think he had eaten enough in the last 48 hours to be sick from it. After 5 minutes had past, he stood as steadily as possible, composed a neutral face and came out before Eames could become suspicious of what he had been doing.

It turned out Eames wasn't suspicious because of how long Arthur had spent in the toilets, after all it wasn't hard to picture Arthur in front of the mirror, putting every single strand of hair back in the right place – because there certainly was such thing as an optimal hair placement to him -, but because the noises he had made were pretty impossible to miss. When the younger man exited the toilets, Eames asked casually, knowing that Arthur didn't like showing any sign of weakness:

“Hey love, what were you doing in there?”

Given the face he displayed at the question, Eames guessed that Arthur was considering whether lying or telling him the truth, to eventually look at the meal Eames had brought him and say:

“That's what I thought, I hadn't seen there was cheese in it, I'm lactose intolerant.”

Eames nodded understandingly, not sure whether he had had the truth or the lie in the end. Thinking about it, he had indeed witnessed that Arthur was pretty picky about what he ate and he might indeed have nether seen him eat anything that would have had lactose in it but he wasn't sure this little amount of milk by-product could make him that sick. Plus, Arthur was very good at telling lies and making them up. As they came back to work, Eames discretely looked at the point man, trying to find clues of a possible illness. He noticed that the circles under his eyes might be a bit darker than usual but he couldn't really tell, Arthur was so hard-working that being sleep deprived was practically written on his ID. He coughed and seemed to have a headache as well but this could be because of all of the work and the crappy air conditioning. Unable to figure out what was going on, the forger decided to keep an eye on the other man to see if something would betray a potential lie.

Arthur could feel Eames' eyes scrutinising him. First of all, being looked at like that would have made anybody uncomfortable. The point man really didn't have any energy left to put in trying to look as if he was perfectly fine, which he obviously wasn't, but the last thing he needed right now was Eames' condescension. So he did his best and kind of succeeded during the all afternoon, but when the evening came he felt his healthy man's mask sliding. Yet he was far from having finished the notes Cobb needed for the following day – his headache and constant coughing kept slowing him down - so now the only way for him to get his work done and have the luxury to come home and get a few hours of sleep would be for Eames to leave early. Unfortunately, if Eames was known to be late pretty much everyday, he was also famous for being the biggest night owl the team had ever included and behind his casual look he was a very talented forger who liked a work well done. Arthur sighed and resumed his work, seeing his night go shorter and shorter every minute Eames spent in the warehouse keeping him from focusing with his constant glances.

Eames could indeed go to sleep at far-fetched hours, but it was also true that he had managed to crack the personality of the guy that he was working on quicker than he thought. At around 2 in the afternoon, after hours spent looking at pictures and files which didn't seem to have anything in common, he had tapped his head with his hand and had exclaimed:

“Of course! What an idiot! This is all about his hair dresser!”

Arthur had looked at him with his oh-well-he-finally-went-mad face but everyone knew that he was actually impressed by the way Eames could read in people and connect their reaction to what had happened to them, it wasn't a secret than Arthur painfully lacked social skills. 

The point was that the forger didn't have any work left to do that would force him to stay up that late, the only reason that kept him from going home and enjoying a well-deserved sleep was the in all likelihood dying point man right next to him. Indeed, Eames' suspicions had been comforted, slightly at first when the other man had started making spelling mistakes – Eames couldn't understand why Arthur insisted on writing his notes on paper when tipping them would have been so much faster but he imagined that the point man wanted to control absolutely everything, including the shape of the letters – . Then he got slower noticing them, sometimes realizing it up to three lines later. In the evening he had started crossing entire sentences out and when Eames came to see how he was doing at around 10 pm, not only the younger man didn't notice his presence - he would usually be able to tell when the forger was going to come and bother him way in advance as part of his planning everything working method - but the forger realised that Arthur's sentences didn't make any sense! The words were English but they were put in an odd order than made the note illegible. Getting worried, Eames questioned his teammate about the meaning of what he was writing. He frowned, read the note as if he was discovering it and said between two coughing fits that indeed, it didn't sound great. Eames was now worried for good and as always when he was worried, he got angry and thought: “They don't sound good? Really?! Obviously they don't, they don't make any sense! You write words randomly and you expect it to sound OK?!”. And to his great displeasure, Arthur resumed his pointless writing. Eames couldn't believe it! But deep down they both knew what was going on, to make sure of it the Forger pressed his hand on the forehead of the Point man who, surprised by the sudden freezing feeling, pushed him away and tried to get back to work. It was enough for Eames to feel the heat radiating from the other man's skin.

“Well, my dear, you're done here!” 

Arthur answered without looking back at him:

“Of course I'm not! Do you even know how late I am! Cobb is going to kill me on tomorrow if he doesn't see my notes on his desk!”

At least he could speak coherently even if he wouldn't have been able to write his thoughts down. Eames tried to repress his anger, knowing that Arthur was just trying to do his best, that he was afraid of disappointing people. He was smart, like really bloody smart, he could make up a credible lie in a matter of seconds and analyse absolutely every single detail of their marks – their family, friends, daily routine, previous activity, dog's name, favourite colour of nail polish, secret fantasies, last time they had eaten pudding! - to draw conclusions that would keep them from being put in dangerous situations in the dreams. But when it came to human thoughts and feelings, Eames was the man and he didn't like being considered an idiot, especially by someone so clever that he had forgotten to take care of himself. Out of irritation, he unplugged Arthur's computer and sent his pen and notes flying at the other hand of the warehouse.

“Now you stubborn prick listen to me! If you are not able to take care of yourself and understand that coming to work sick as a dog is bloody stupid, fine! But don't expect me to be as stupid as you are and say nothing!”

Unfortunately, Arthur had faced a lot of obstacles in his life and his ability to overcome them was the exact reason why he got here, so anger really wasn't the good way to convince him, it actually made him even more certain that he had to keep going even against a pissed forger:

“Well say something if you feel like it but I have work to do and I'm not moving until it's done! Despite what you think, my job his important and all of your lives are on the line here! Don't you remember last time I made a mistake? We almost all ended up in limbo, because of me! So yes, I might be a stick-in-the-mud as you say, but I don't have a choice if I don't want to have your death on my conscience! I.can't.make.mistakes!”

Eames anger faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. He took a smoother, understanding tone.

“Arthur come on, don't you think I already know that?”

“Why would you call me names if you did? Why would I be the butt of all your jokes!”

He looked like he was about to cry.

“Because I like teasing! It is the way I communicate, it's what I do!”

“Well this is the dumbest language I've ever seen!”

Eames chuckled softly, knowing that he was breaking though.

“Come on, let me bring you home.”

Arthur would have liked protesting but it was just as if all his strength had left him so he let Eames practically lift him from his chair. As the forger gathered his jacket and car keys, the point man tried to discretely take some work with him, at least as discretely as a coughing, sneezing and heavily breathing man could. Eames sighed slightly, wondering whether he should take it away from him, to finally let him go away with him, a fight would have just make him more exhausted but not less stubborn. It just meant that he would have to stay over to make sure that the other man didn't work himself to death, which was his original plan anyway given Arthur's state.

As they exited the building, Arthur started walking unsteadily towards his apartment and the sight of the sick man slowly walking to his home, which was at least an hour away at an healthy man's pace, would have made Eames laugh if he didn't know the younger man would have actually done it if he had been alone. Gosh he couldn't be left alone one second without making a mess of himself!

“And what do you think you're doing darling?”

“As you said, I'm going home!”

“All on your own, at that pace! Come on Arthur, we both know you want to go alone so that you can resume your work when you get there! Well, bad news, without me, I can assure you that you will never get there.”

Arthur started opening his mouth but Eames didn't let him the opportunity to talk.

“You've got the choice : either you let me drive you home or I will carry you bridal style through the whole town!”

Knowing that Eames would actually do it, Arthur unwillingly got in the forger's car after having given him an angry look. As they quietly made their way in the city lights, Arthur discovered that the car's windows were blissfully cold and leant his head on it, slowly falling asleep despite his head twitching because of the road irregularities. 

By the time they arrived, Arthur was fast asleep and even if his sinuses must have been a bacteria/viruses battlefield, he wasn't snorting at all which acutely exasperated Eames – even when sick this man was uptight for God's sake!. He didn't want to wake the younger man up but didn't want to risk dropping him out of surprise if he suddenly woke up either – knowing Arthur, he would probably start fighting against his benefactor if he realised he had been carried back home like a fragile bride – so he gently shoved the other man's right shoulder. The point man jolted awake, he was apparently not having the nicest dream, more like a bad nightmare, this night would definitely be fun! 

The elevator being broken – this was definitely a bad day for Arthur - Eames supported or rather half carried the point man to his flat, trying not to make to much noise at this late hour of the night which was difficult considering that he had to wake his co-worker up every five minutes to prevent him from falling all the way down the stairs. They eventually made it and disregarding Arthur's motion towards his perfectly tidied and paper free desk, Eames brought him to his room, struggling finding it because of how bare and clean everything was, every door being closed and no personal belongings lying here and there that would have enabled him to make the difference between each room. The forger couldn't repress a smile as he gently laid Arthur in his bed, his room really did look like it belonged to a hotel, everything was so immaculate, there was literally no sign that a person had been living there for a month. 

As he looked into the drawer – which was rather empty, the point man liked keeping things to the bare minimum to avoid mess and have less things to check - to try and find some medicine, which he didn't, he was surprised to stumble across a pair of glasses. Startled, he asked Arthur to let him open his eyes, which he only did without protesting because he was laying half conscious on the bed, and as he looked closely at the dark irises of the other man, he indeed noticed that he worn contact lenses. So this was it, the proof that the point man's perfection was not flawless, it would definitely become his favourite teasing subject. But for now he had to shove Arthur awake so that he would take them off, he didn't need to be a doctor to guess that sleeping with contacts was not a good idea. When they were both standing in Arthur's pearl white bathroom, it turn out that the latter was shaking so much that it was impossible for him to take the lenses off without putting his eyes out. Eames didn't know if it was because of the illness or not but the point man, who never hesitated making cutting remarks about the forger's presumed laziness, actually trusted him enough to let him put his big fingers in his eyes to remove the contacts surprisingly gently. 

As they were about to exit the room, Arthur's stomach apparently decided that it would be a shame to leave the place without putting it to use and a few seconds later, Arthur was emptying his stomach from what seemed to be the totality of it's acid, Eames not knowing what to do except drawing reassuring circles on his back. When he was done, he sat against the cool wall, closing his eyes so that his head would stop spinning, breathing sharply. Eames sat next to him, not knowing what to tell him because there really was nothing that would ease the pain the point man was in. He bit his lips. Even if his sickness was probably correlated to the fact that the younger man overworking himself was practically a lifestyle of his, the forger felt guilty because, to him, it might as well have been the physical expression of an internal pain that he had caused. Arthur had said it himself, Eames teased him all day, disregarding whether he was happy, grumpy, had a lot of work to do, was trying to focus, was planning a really important extraction, was helping Cobb taking care of his children... just all the time. Eames was also a very enthusiastic trickster and his target was almost always the poor point man who was just trying to do his job and saw it screwed up because of Eames questionable notion of fun. Long story short, Eames thought he could see physically all the psychological pain that Arthur was going through because of him, and just like everyone who was confronted to their mistakes and bad decisions, he didn't like it, at all.

But he could make it up to him, he was going to show him that he cared, that the teasing was just a clumsy way for him to show affection and respect. He first took the other man's arm and put it around his neck to support him but Arthur couldn't even stand on his feet so Eames finally kept his promise and carried him bridal style back to his room. On their way, Arthur half-opened his eyes to look at the forger and say:

“You... ma-make di...dizzy...”

“I know darling, I'm sorry but once I put you in your bed it will be OK I promise.”

Eames' promise seemed to be reliable enough to Arthur who didn't say anything else and just suffered in silence until they made it to his bedroom. When the forger laid him in the bed, he weakly stretched his arm to reach his glasses but Eames stopped him:

“It's probably better if you don't waste energy focusing pet, even if I have to admit I am a beautiful piece of art to look at.”

The joke wasn't made with the usual biting tone, it wasn't meant to make him be noticed or to make Arthur annoyed and embarrassed. This time, Eames had made a joke for Arthur, to make him laugh and feel better. The latter must have felt the change too because he smiled softly and in his eyes, Eames would have sworn seeing a light of agreement to this statement, but Arthur was so feverish it probably mean nothing.

Speaking of fever, Eames quickly when back to the bathroom to find a thermometer, which he did easily thank to Arthur incredible sense of organisation, to shove it inside the point man's mouth – he didn't bother cleaning it, it was obvious that it had never been used before, Arthur being one of these people who believe that being busy keeps illnesses away because they can't fit in their schedule. When it beeped, he took it out of the smaller man's mouth and his eyes widened at the numbers. 

“God Arthur, I knew something was wrong but that his hell of a fever! It's like 39,2 °C! I need to get you to a hospital!”

But as he said this, he felt a cold hand grabbing the corner of his shirt.

“No hospital.”

Contrary to Arthur's former tired and messy sentences, this two words were clear and firm which made Eames understand how serious this statement was. He wanted to answer that their was no way he would let him boil his brain up but a memory stopped him. He remembered the investigation job that Arthur, Cobb and he had done for the first inception of their careers. They had been going to the hospital to get informations on the health of Robert Fischer's dad and Eames had noticed how tense Arthur was. He was usually so meticulous, he was surprised to see the point man leading the conversation they had had with that very sexy blond doctor straight to the point, not trying to push further to get any extra informations, and practically running out of the building as if it had caught on fire. As they had been left behind Arthur ridiculously fast pace, Cobb had told him that he hated hospital because of something that had happened in his past, he suspected that it was related to his foster family that he would never talk about but Arthur was so mysterious on that matter that he couldn't be sure of anything. 

“Fine, but let's make a deal! If you go above 39.7°C, I'll drag your butt to the hospital, willing or not.”

“39.7° included?”

“Nope”

“...”

“Fine, but if those 39.7° kill you, it won't be my responsibility!”

“Deal.”

The answer was weak but relieved. It gave Eames courage to ask:

“Maybe one you will tell me what this is all about...”

He knew that this was not going to be welcomed, and to be honest he wouldn't have said it to a healthy point man, it was wrong but he was kind of counting on his exhaustion to make him less stick-in-the-muddy. So when Arthur looked at him like he had just proposed him to have savage sex on the balcony and turned his back at him, ending the conversation and the beginning of peace that had settled between them at the same time, Eames was disappointed to see that their relationship was that fragile and relieved that the other man wouldn't waste the little energy he had left on an argument.

Arthur remained grumpy for the following hours, refusing to have anything to do with the forger, which he had to confess worried him a lot. Indeed, argument or not, the point man still had a dangerously high fever that needed to be taken care of and his constant refusal to accept Eames help wasn't going to bring it down. He would try to make him take some soup or water that he would systematically turn down with tight lips and add to this the fact that he had somehow managed to drag himself to the couch and was now sitting - probably waiting for Eames to leave - refusing to get the sleep he needed, and the forger had a lot to worry about. At first, he decided he wouldn't pull a fight that wasn't his, after all, he wasn't Arthur's dad or mum or whatever and didn't have to look after him.

“You know what? Fine! I am not going to waste my time trying to take care of someone as ungrateful as you are! You want to stay in whatever past you have, that's your choice, but I am not part of it so I'm done here!”

When he had said it, he meant to leave, he really did. Arthur didn't to anything to make him stay, he just looked at him with his glassy eyes – he had also put his spare pair of glasses that Eames didn't know about – apparently waiting for something to happen. But Eames saw something else in them, he saw the same sort of sadness, even maybe fear that when he had stopped him from bringing him to the hospital. He had the look as these abandoned puppies which looked at you with eyes saying “I might not have been the perfect pet in the past but I need you, I need someone to love me and that I could love back” to any passer-by that would show it a bit of attention. So he stayed. 

He sat on the couch next to Arthur, not too close to show him that he was not going to try to help without him asking for it, and waited. They stayed like that for a couple hours. Eames was not a patient man, he always needed to drown his boredom in socializing, gambling or seducing women but this time he was willing to wait for Arthur to make the first move, to see if he really needed him. In addition to it, the forger had a lot to think of given that he was running all the possible explanations to Arthur's reaction in his mind, speculating about what could have happened to him.  
He finally got what he wanted at around 2 am. After having fought against it for hours, Arthur's need to sleep eventually won and he started sliding to end up laying on Eames knees who had to internally restrain himself from stroking his hair, he knew that he couldn't help the latter if he didn't want to be helped, so he did nothing. A few minutes later, the point man woke up suddenly and as he realised where he had fallen asleep, he got so embarrassed – his face couldn't possibly get more flushed that it already was – that he quickly got up to escape this awkward situation. He instantly regretted having done that as all his symptoms stroke him at the same time. He was freezing, his head started spinning and as he had a coughing fit so bad he thought it would never stop to let him breath, the only luck he got was that his stomach was apparently too empty and busy hurting that he didn't throw up. As he felt himself falling and perhaps dying, he remembered his dad always being their for him, he remembered how much he missed the feeling of being safe with him. He was about to cry, he just needed one person, just one, that would care...

“E-eames...I-I...”

The forger was himself starting to fall asleep so he didn't catch the point man on time before he collapsed and his head hit the ground but before he fell completely unconscious, he was convinced he had heard a “sorry” said in a breath.

The forger considered this apology to be a call for help so he decided to do his best to help Arthur even if he had to be honest with himself, except from calling the hospital, he didn't really know what to do. He checked the sick man's temperature : 39,4°. Crap! He was starting to contemplate breaking this stupid deal that might actually be putting the point man's life in danger but the pain that he had seen in the other man's eyes somehow kept him from doing it, it was too important to Arthur, he was ready to go through all this pain when a nurse could have eased it with a simple drug to stay away from he hospital, God knew what would happened if he woke up in one not knowing how he had ended up there. 

Instead, he picked up Arthur's glasses on the floor and put them on the night stand to make sure he wouldn't accidentally crush them under his feet. He then went to pick Arthur up too but when he felt how heat literally radiated from his skin he took is jacket off first to carry him bridal style to his bed. He laid him on his sheets and started taking his clothes off to dress him in his pyjamas (that he had of course found straight away as they were tidied according to the colour spectrum because Arthur's organisation was just as good as shiny arrows to tell you where things were, that must make things so easy for burglars), trying to ignore the burning sensation under his belt. Geez that point man was hot, and not only because of the fever! He then want back to the bathroom to take a clothe and some cold water for Arthur's forehead, he didn't know any other way to get his fever down except of course medicine but an open pharmacy wasn't going to be an easy thing to find and he didn't want to let Arthur alone in his state. He didn't really know what he was expecting when he pressed the damp cloth on the younger man's forehead, probably seeing him jolt awake, but the absence of reaction that he got instead was way scarier in his opinion. Not knowing what else he could do, he just waited.

When about half of an hour later Arthur's lips started to move, it marked the beginning of the end of the most exhausting night for both of them. The younger teammate first mumbled so quietly that Eames asked him to speak louder but when Arthur – who had somehow managed to hear him – started speaking at a slightly higher volume that allowed Eames to pick up some of his words, the latter understood that he wasn't actually talking to him but hallucinating. At first, Eames was annoyed by that, he had hoped getting a bit of sleep himself but with Arthur mumbling incoherent thoughts the night was going to be long and restless. After a few minutes though, he changed his mind and listened carefully. Indeed, he had heard the word “dad”, a word that he had never heard in Arthur's mouth, such as “brother” and even “doggy” that he said just a few seconds later. He smiled softly at the point man's relaxed and happy expression as he was apparently thinking about happy memories of the time spent with them. But his smile faded as Arthur started to get more and more agitated as his memories started to cloud. He looked scared:

“No dad! Not this way! I don't like the mountains at night, it is all turns!”

He had taken a little voice that was undoubtedly his when he was younger, he then took a graver one:

“I know Arty, believe me I do but your brother his in a lot of pain and we need to get to the hospital as quickly as we can! And hold Plume tight, he doesn't like the speed.”

Eames had wondered who Plume was but hearing the weird noises that his teammate made, he understood that it was their dog back then. He was surprised by how clear Arthur's voice was, far from the previous mumbling , that showed just as vivid as the hallucination (and most likely memory) was. Arthur had been speaking like this for a while, alternating different voices that Eames identified as being his father's, his brother's and his own. He wished Arthur's fever hallucinations would end soon to let him sleep but he didn't like the end of this dream. The end of this nightmare.

As the point man's self conversation went on, it got clear that he was struggling to hold the dog which was, like “Arty”, terrified by how fast his father was driving at night in the mountain roads. Eventually Arthur's hands, that had been clenched the whole time, stiffly opened as he let out the most horrifying scream he had ever heard. After that, Arthur went limp.

Frightened by Arthur's violent reaction, Eames checked his temperature again : 39.7° exactly, it was just as if the point man had know the precise temperature he was going for when they had set the deal. Eames reason was shouting to take him to the hospital in his head but his heart had decided otherwise. As much as he hated this decision, Eames quickly grabbed his coat, kissed Arthur's burning forehead and exited the flat, leaving the point man battling his sickness alone but hoping he would be of more help this way.

At 4 am, as most people were still innocently asleep, a man was running the streets. The few passer-bys that he crossed thought he was crazy, but he knew damn well that someone's life was at stake here, so he ignored them and kept running. Finding an open pharmacy turned out to be just as difficult as he had thought and it was finally thanks to a junkie that he had stumbled across that he had found this tiny shop that was more a condom provider for the young men from poor backgrounds than a proper pharmacy. As he entered the building that was bathed in a green-yellowish colour and that smelled something like old gasoline mixed with sweat and urine, he understood that he had been wrong and that in addition to condoms, he might as well have found some syringes and white powder in this place's displays. It was actually a luck because the owner of the so-called “pharmacy” had pretty strong stuff in stock – things that were way too strong to be sold to anyone except qualified hospital staff, certainly not kids and weird guys running in the city at a far-fetched hour of the night, or the morning depending on your point of view - that he was willing to give to anyone who would pay the price. Eames quickly threw the money at the creepy man behind the desk and ran back to Arthur's flat as fast as he could.

When he walked back in, the air was warm and thick with the smell of fever, he heard some mumblings and as he looked inside the bedroom, he saw that the point man had fell from his bed and was weakly fighting an invisible but certainly terrifying creature on the ground. He didn't need to take his temperature to know that the deal had been broken when he had been away, he needed to act fast. He took the medicine out of its box and realised that there was a needle in it. He spoke aloud but mostly for himself:

“That looks a lot like a joke but I guess that they are right, there isn't much of a difference between medicines and drugs! I bet that just like hospitals you don't like needles either? Well that's too bad because our deal is off and I am going to stick it in your arm right now”  
As he said that, he tried to hold the point man as still as he could and planted the needle on the inside of his elbow, thanking God for being in the extraction business where everyone knew how to use a PASIV and therefore a syringe. It only took a few minutes before Arthur stopped battling, well, he actually completely stopped moving which worried Eames a bit, maybe the medicine was to strong, maybe it wasn't a medicine at all. There was nothing else he could do, he just had to wait and see if he had saved or killed the point man with a crappy drug bought in a shady pharmacy in the middle of the night.

It took about a quarter of an hour of fearful waiting after having put Arthur back in bed to finally see him open exhausted but alive eyes. Eames could have really hugged him at this moment but he didn't want the other man to feel awkward, he was already warm enough even if his fever had blissfully came down to 38.2° which was still to high but not as dangerous as 40°. Arthur looked at Eames even though the forger was probably just a blurry spot to his unfocused eyes and started smiling weakly. He let out a almost inaudible:

“Hey...time?”

Eames chuckled softly. Obviously, the first thing the point man would think about after having brush past death was whether he had been missing work. He looked relived when the forger told him:

“About 4.30 am, my dear early bird.

Arthur's relief faded when he added:

“But there is no way you come out of this bed before this thermometer displays a decent digit and and no way you come out of this flat before you can walk on your own without tripping on your own feet, darling!”

Arthur opened his mouth to answer something before closing it as he realised that both of this requirements made sense and that neither was fulfilled for now. 

“Well since we agree on this, I'm going to make you something to eat, you must be starving, it's been a long time since you've last eaten!”

“Wait!”

The younger man had said it as loud as he could to get Eames attention before he exited the room, the latter came back and sat on the bed.

“Did I... say something in my sleep?”

“I'm not going to lie to you pet, yes you did. But I want you to know that I respect you and your past, I won't tease you about it.”

“It's not what I meant... Even if you must have understood most of it, I want you to know everything.”

“You don't have to. Plus, you are very tired and I don't want you to say something that you would regret.”

“I won't, believe me. I'm tired of this burden that I have to carry all on my own, I'd like to share it with you, if you accept it of course. You are the only one I trust.”

Eames was surprised by how perspicacious Arthur was, he had seen behind all the teasing that the forger actually cared about him and would do anything to help him.

“I'm willing to share your feeling sweetheart.”

“It was all my fault. It happened on the day of my birthday, I had been pushing my brother around all day, just like a child who thinks he has all the rights on the day he was born and my father had kind of let things go, thinking that my brother would get his revenge on his own birthday, which never came... Except that this time, I pushed to hard and my sibling ended up falling down the stairs. He screamed so loud I thought I had killed him, it turned out I had but not quite yet.”

“Arthur, you didn't...”

“I know what you will say but please, let me finish.”

“Fine, but what about your mother?”

“I don't have one, this man adopted my brother and I shortly after, he took care of us so well I never looked for my biological parents, even after what happened.”

“I see, please continue”

“ He got lucky, it was just a broken arm, but the injury hurt him like hell so my dad told me to grab our dog's leash – Plume was a really nice dog but when left alone he would freak out and destroy the entire house – and to get in the car. It was dark outside and my brother was crying so my dad drove very fast to get to the hospital as soon as he could to end his suffering. I was scared, the ravines next to the road seemed endless and I could picture the car falling down one of them, killing us all. Plume was just as frightened as I was, pulling on the leash frantically. I tried to restrain him, I did... I couldn't... just couldn't...”

“It's OK darling, it's all over now, I'm right next to you and I'm not going anywhere.”

“I let the leash go. He jumped on my dad who lost control of the car and what I had pictured happened, the car rolled down the ravine. The only thing I hadn't predicted was that we didn't all die, I survived. The only person the ambulance took alive to the hospital was me. This hospital that we had been trying to reach for my brother's pain to stop had only seen me, the one who was responsible for their death, alive. I had killed them, and I had been saved, even Plume didn't make it.”

“Arthur, it's not your fault.”

“It doesn't matter, I feel like it is and this is all that counts. I've been living a life that I didn't deserve since then but there is a thing I understood that night : I can't make mistakes. A single mistake and everything goes up in flames, a single mistake and innocent lives are taken away when the culprit is still on the go, a single mistake and I loose everyone I love once again.”

“The next mistake you make, I'll be there to help you fix it darling. We're not machines, we have flaws but we are many and that makes us strong. When someone makes a mistake, the others help him so that no one suffers in the end.”

“I wish it was true”

“Darling tell me, when was the last mistake you made?”

“I don't know...”

“It was a few hours ago, when you decided you could handle everything on your own and therefore put your life in danger. Are you dead now?”

“...”

“Are you dead now?”

It was said more firmly.

“...no...”

“Am I dead?”

“No”

Seeing that he had made his point, Eames' voice became softer.

“So you see, everything worked out in the end because you let me help you. And it's certainly not the last time it happens but I'm always going to be there for you, just as know you will always be there for me.”

After he had said these words, he bent closer to the point man and gently put a kiss on his lips, kiss that was accepted and returned, showing that Arthur had understood the point he had made and trusted him to look after each other.

END


End file.
